A/N: This first chapter is the result of a conversation with Liliedhe at ASN about Katara's past. Hope you enjoy.
Liar
The little boy was much aggrieved to be awoken just as he was about to spear the elusive fish. Remaining still in the blankets that kept him warm despite the snowfall, he listened to the silence and wondered what had woken him- just as the quiet sound came again. He froze. Trying to ignore his fear, he asked himself what kind of coward was afraid of a small noise (and ignored the image of a huge Fire Nation soldier that appeared in his imagination). The sound came again- from the other side of the room, where his sister lay sleeping. Suspecting what it was, he rose and crept to her side.
He was right.
She'd kicked off the furs that served as her protection from the chilly night and almost rolled off the ones sprawled beneath her. She twisted- another small moan came from her partly open mouth. He shook her shoulder, trying to wake her, but she only twisted away as she began to whimper even louder. Scared, he ran outside, looking for his mother.
By the time he'd found her and they were running through the falling snow back to the tent, his sister's screams had already brought several of the villagers. His mother shoved them aside and ran to Katara, whom one man was trying to wake up- but she fought him, tears streaming down her face, trying to tear into flesh with her tiny nails.
"What are you doing!" she hissed and grabbed her child from him- just as her screams brought her father running.
"What in the-"
"Did you tell the kids more stories about the war tonight?" Sokka felt guilty- it was he who had pestered his father to tell him war stories before going to bed.
"She was sleep-" The little girl screamed again, as if to protest this half- statement. Sokka watched as his father quickly backed down and instead asked the villagers to leave. Torn between following him and staying with his mother, the little boy wavered on one spot- then a sound came that decided his actions for him. He smiled and walked towards his mother, and the screaming child she held tight against her chest.
She had begun to sing.
Her quiet melody was at first overpowered by the child in her arms as she rocked her, held her close, but the screams eventually grew less lusty, less desperate, and her voice- clear as a bell, light as the snow outside- drifted out of the tent to the few villagers who still lingered just outside.
But her song continued, as Katara eventually returned to her moans- even those gradually stopping. But Sokka could still see the tears flowing down her face. In the silence when her mother stopped singing, Katara's blue eyes opened and focused on their mother's face.
"Mom.. the soldiers got you… and Sokka… and.." He wasn't surprised- she always got bad dreams after hearing war stories these days. If he didn't know that she'd get him back for it, Sokka would have called her chicken.
"No, sweetheart. It was just a nightmare. We're all here. See?" she said, pointing to Sokka, then to a figure just inside. Sokka turned: their father stood just inside the doorway. He smiled at them, then stepped outside.
"No soldiers?"
"No soldiers." His mother wiped the tears from Katara's face and walked across to the rawhide doorway. He followed them, slipping outside as his mother pushed the material aside to let Katara see. "It's a beautiful night. No fire, no death. Just the snow."
She was right- the snow was beautiful- falling slowly from the sky, light, airy, free. Tiny stars falling from the sky above; the tears of the moon. The fresh fall covered his world in a clean coat of powdery white.
But as beautiful as it was, Sokka knew that it was cold. And wet. And beneath the beauty lay any number of dangers. He looked at his mother, at the happiness on her face, and wondered why she didn't realize that. But she only looked down at him, that special smile in her eyes and on her lips- the one that made him feel like nothing could touch them, as long as she was there. As long as they were together.
They went back inside after a while, Katara falling asleep again. "Baby", he thought, in the midst of a huge yawn. Suddenly, his bed looked a whole lot better than the falling snow. She tucked them back into bed, promising to stay until they had fallen asleep.
Sokka was just nodding off when a sleepy voice woke him again.
"Mom?"
"Yes, sweetheart. I'm right here."
"Will this war ever end? Will the others ever come home?"
"Sure they will, baby. It won't last long again- you'll see. The Avatar will come, and everything's going to be fine. Everything's going to be all right." Comforted, the little boy drifted off to sleep.
A year later, the same little boy and his sister stood beside their mother's body, lying cold and hard underneath the blanket their Gran Gran had been knitting for as long as he could remember. His sister's fists were clenched, one hand wrapped tight around their mother's amulet. He held back the tears that were threatening to fall- for his mom, he'd be a big boy. And Katara would be a big girl, too. But as their father pushed the funeral barge into the water, he watched, heart as cold as the snow around him, as a single tear escaped Katara's guard, running down her face, along the side of her chin, falling onto the amulet she clenched. A whisper floated on the breeze as they stood and watched the barge disappear.
"You lied, mom. You lied."